#house of bourbon
Princess Leonor andKing Felipe at the annual summer photocall at the Marivent Palace (August 4, 2019)
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Queen Victoria Eugenia of Spain wearing the Shell Tiara (Mellerio, 1868). Photographed by Janet Jevons, 1930s.
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thesecretofthehouseofbourbonbook:
⚜️XIII⚜️: Chapter I/Part II (Book II)
As Alexandre became my servant, I became servant to my parents. It began simply enough—I was given a napkin to hand to my father at dinner. Soon enough, I was serving both my mother and my father regularly.
One particular morning, I ushered into my mother’s chambers and handed her chemise. I stood there for a moment wondering what to do.
“Kiss it,” I was told. “And hand it to Her Majesty.”
I looked at my mother. She glared at me impatiently waiting for me to fulfill my duty to her. I promptly did what I was commanded and her face softened, much to my relief. Not long thereafter, I was delivering her napkin at dinner as well.
I knew I was above all those that served the King and Queen—my parents. I was the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of France; how dare they? I knew I should not be subjected to such menial responsibilities. I felt there were no lessons to be learned in serving the self-serving so began to object to my parents’ life lessons.
It was winter when I first stood up against my lot in life. I had begun to grow weary of subservience. I realized that my father held little regard to my knowledge of my status in life. I knew he thought I was too young to know I was the son of the king and I felt it my duty to remind him.
It was one evening in December when I was once again called to my duties as servant to the table of my father. I adamantly refused. I was promptly shown to my father’s table.
“What is this,” he asked me. “Why are you not about your duties to your father?”
“No,” I said, my arms folded across my chest. “I do not want to.”
“But I am the master,” he answered. “And you, you are my valet.”
“I am not your valet,” I said. “I am your son.”
“Would a son refuse to serve his father,” he asked. “And are you not the son of the king, Louis?”
I looked around to see everyone watching. My mother’s expression was one of disapproval—and in my youth, I could not tell with whom she was more disappointed. Finally, I gave up my futile mission. In surrender, I unfolded my arms and sighed.
“Now,” my father began. “Who are you?”
“I am Papa’s little valet,” I said softly.
My father smiled triumphantly as I handed him his napkin. Defeated, I turned slowly walked away. It would not be the last time I would give in to the power of my father but in my defeat, I would grow stronger.–The Secret of the House of Bourbon–XIII by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 05-10-2021
Life in the quart of Henri IV is not always what it appears.
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Simon would buffet him on the head, or kick him away, adding the remark, ‘Get to bed again, wolfs cub; I only wanted to know that you were safe.’ On one of these occasions, when the child had fallen half stunned upon his own miserable couch, and lay there groaning and faint with pain, Simon roared out with a laugh, ‘Suppose you were king, Capet, what would you do to me?’ The child thought of his father’s dying words, and said, ‘I would forgive you.’”
Memoirs Of The Court Of Marie Antoinette, Queen Of France - Madame Campan
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